


Bagging a Holmes is Hard

by totalizzyness



Category: Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Bondlock, F/M, M/M, Multi, One sided relationship, Woobie!Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalizzyness/pseuds/totalizzyness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper had a type. Tall... dark... handsome... gay...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted this fic ever since I saw that Molly/Q was a thing. In my mind, Molly's the sort of woman who tells herself something so much she starts to believe it, and it just clouds her judgement. She wants something so bad, and she's so determined to get it she doesn't realise she's never going to.
> 
> Also, in this fic I'm giving Q the same name he has in my other Bondlock series. Because I like the name, but neither fics are affiliated in any way.

Molly wished her head ruled her heart, and not the other way around. She was hopeless in love, things never went right for her. Things would probably work out better for her if she wasn’t so fatally in love with Sherlock Holmes, a fact which was blatantly obvious to anyone who came into contact with the two of them. She’d lost track of how long she’d pined after the consulting detective; she tried to reason with herself, telling herself Sherlock would never welcome anyone’s advances, he was “married to his work”, after all. He was forever saying the cruelest things to her, giving her false hope she stood a chance with him, only to knock her down.

Every time she managed to talk herself out of her ridiculous infatuation he’d appear, with his bouncy curls and rare smiles. His insults were always sugar-coated with his silky voice, and Molly couldn’t help but fall for him over again.

Things had only gotten worse when John Watson arrived. Sherlock was nice to him… well, he insulted him less than he insulted anyone else. He even appeared to enjoy his company — he had to if they were living together.

Sherlock was obviously fascinated by John; whenever he was by himself, Sherlock would tell Molly everything about him. It was the little things that hurt the most. Sherlock remembered John’s birthday; remembered how he took his tea; tried to be mindful of John’s work hours; he knew his usual order for every restaurant they frequented. He never remembered anything about Molly, despite how long they’d known each other.

Molly caught Sherlock looking at John, Watching him; not deducing, just… looking. She noticed the barely-there, lingering touches, the secret smiles, smiles reserved only for John. John made Sherlock laugh. Not snigger derisively at someone’s stupidity or chuckle at a clever pun, full-bodied laughter. Laughter that made his lips stretch wide, showing his teeth, the skin around his eyes crinkling, his curls bouncing atop his head as his body shuddered. Molly wished she knew how to make him laugh like that.

She missed Sherlock when she didn’t see him for nearly two months. She knew he’d been busy with cases around the world, and he’d been involved in one of Scotland Yard’s more high profile cases of the spring. She tried to use the time away from him to focus her mind on other things; her work, her cats. She even attempted a relationship but never made it past the second date — it wouldn’t have worked, he was allergic to cats.

She was surprised when one day, John slipped into the lab alone.

“John!”

“Hello, Molly. Just here to drop off an invitation,” John smiled, holding out an envelope. Molly smiled back, taking the invitation.

“What for?”

“It’s his highness’ birthday. I’m throwing the git a party.”

“Oh… That doesn’t sound very Sherlock.”

John grinned. “It’s not. He’ll hate it.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

“Don’t bother getting him a present, he won’t appreciate it.”

Molly chuckled, looking down at the envelope. “Hmm… So, been busy? Any new cases?”

“Nothing new, no. Sherlock’s turned the kitchen into a biohazard, I just had to get out.”

“That’s Sherock.”

John smiled wistfully. “Indeed… Anyway, hope to see you on Sunday. Have a great day.”

“You too.”

With a quick grin, John left, leaving Molly stood staring at the envelope in her hands, turning it over to see her name scrawled on the front in John’s doctor’s handwriting. Suddenly all the progress she’d made flew out the window; she began planning what outfit to wear, how to do her hair so it’d definitely catch the detective’s attention. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

 

***  *  *  ***

It finally did arrive, Molly nervously flattened down the material of her dress before letting herself into 221, climbing the seventeen steps to 221B. The “party” had already begun, Lestrade, Sarah, and Mrs Hudson were there, along with a young man Molly had never seen before. Mrs Hudson was the first to spot her.

“Molly dear! Come in! Let me take your coat.”

Molly smiled, slipping her coat off, letting Mrs Hudson take it from her. Lestrade grinned at her, signing “drink?”. Nodding, Molly moved further into the flat, looking for Sherlock, occasionally glancing to the unknown man. He was sat by the window, a glass of red wine in his fingers, a bored look on his face. He looked like a young Sherlock with glasses, and was clearly not interested in socialising with anyone. John appeared from Sherlock’s bedroom.

“Molly! Glad you could make it! The birthday boy’s sulking because Mycroft promised to visit.”

Lestrade appeared at Molly’s side, pushing a glass of white wine into her hand. “He said having one of his brothers in attendance was bad enough, but both was too much.”

“He has another brother?”

John nodded towards the mystery man. “Felix Holmes. The youngest.”

“Oh… wow… Sherlock never mentioned he has two brothers. I had no idea.”

“Neither did I until I got an email asking if I could help in arranging a meeting with his boss and Sherlock, because Sherlock wasn’t responding to his emails.”

“I had no interest in working for MI-6,” Sherlocked sniffed, appearing behind John. Molly smiled up at him. His hair had grown some since she’d last seen him, and his face looked fresh, like he’d been sleeping regularly.

“Happy Birthday, Sherlock.”

Sherlock huffed. “Birthdays, dull.”

John gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. Sherlock scowled.

“I uh… Thank you.”

“So… another brother?”

“Yes. Terribly busy, rarely see one another… he’s only here to try and persuade me to consult with ‘M’. I don’t work for initials.”

John sighed. “Could you please be nice? He’s your brother!”

“So’s Mycroft.”

“Mycroft’s an arse. Felix seems nice.”

“Seems, John. Don’t let his exterior fool you, he’s just as manipulating and dangerous as Mycroft.”

“But he’s got a cat!”

Sherlock sneered. “That doesn’t mean anything. Hitler had a dog, it doesn’t make him a good person!”

“I’m not having this argument. Again. Just be polite to your guests.”

Sherlock huffed, stomped over to his chair and flopped down. John gave a small quirk of the ips and went to fix himself a drink. Lestrade had moved over to talk to Sarah and Mrs Hudson. Sherlock’s brother hadn’t moved from his seat, tapping away at his phone. John stalked over to Sherlock, pressing a glass of scotch into his hand, before carding his fingers through his hair as he moved over to sit opposite Felix. Molly frowned. She’d never seen such an intimate touch between the two men; Sherlock hadn’t bristled at the contact, he almost seemed to encourage it. She wondered what it’d be like, running her hands through Sherlock’s hair, wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

She cleared her throat and went to perch herself in John’s armchair, keeping her eyes on Sherlock. Sherlock, however, didn’t seem to notice her.

“I saw the coverage of the Miller case,” she said timidly. Sherlock’s eyes snapped to her, his fingers curling tighter around the glass.

“Elderly neighbour. Obvious. No one suspects pensioners.”

“Except you.”

“I observe and deduce. I don’t ‘suspect’. That’s guesswork, I don’t guess.”

Molly frowned. “No, I mean-”

“I know what you mean.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock craned his neck to look over at John and Felix, seething when his brother said something that made John laugh. Molly wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or simply brotherly loathing; he had the same face whenever Mycroft was merely mentioned. John laughed again; Molly noticed Sherlock’s knuckles go white as he tightened his grip on his glass even more.

His attention was dragged away when Mycroft appeared in the doorway. “Go away! You’re not invited!”

Mycroft smirked, moving further into the flat. “Felix is invited and I’m not? You’ll wound my feelings, Sherlock.”

“You don’t have any. Now go before you ruin my birthday completely.”

John appeared behind Sherlock, curling his fingers around his shoulder. “Stop being childish, Sherlock.”

Sherlock pouted, slumping further in his armchair. “Pay attention to me.”

“You have my attention all the time. It’s one evening.”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Your birthday was Friday! I paid attention to you all day!”

A barely noticeable smirk appeared on Sherlock’s face. “I know…”

“Why didn’t you have a party on Friday?” Molly asked.

“Well, we thought we’d spend it just the two of us. Plus the flat was in no fit state for guests.”

“More experiments?”

“I was monitoring the rate of decay of a deceased rabbit with the use of maggots,” Sherlock muttered, leaning his head against John’s arm. Molly grimaced.

“Sounds lovely.”

“Especially when he insists on keeping it in the bedroom,” John said, glaring down at Sherlock. Molly nodded slowly, glancing around the room as the conversation tapered off. When she looked back at Sherlock, she saw John’s fingers playing over his exposed neck, twisting in the curls at the back of his head. Sherlock appeared to like it, his eyelids closing slightly.

“Miss Hooper. Have you been introduced to our brother?”

Molly looked up to see the other Holmes’ stood beside the armchairs. She jumped up, flattening down her dress.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

Mycroft smirked. “Molly, Felix. Felix, this is Miss Molly Hooper, she works at Saint Barts, in the morgue.”

Felix smiled, offering his hand. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Hooper.”

His voice was oddly soft, considering Sherlock’s baritone which carried through some of the loudest crowds, and Mycroft’s obvious charisma. Being the youngest of two dramatic brothers obviously played a part in the gentility of his voice.

“Molly, please.”

“Well, Molly, I hear you work with Sherlock from time to time?”

“Yes. I let him use the cadavers for his experiments, let him keep some of the body parts sometimes…”

“Sounds rather… Mary Shelly.”

Molly giggled. “I’m sure John would stop him from creating a monster.”

“I can’t stop him doing anything,” John interrupted. Felix chuckled.

“Yes. Sherlock is an unstoppable force.”

“Let’s hope he never meets an unmovable object, or there’d be Hell to pay,” Mycroft muttered, before moving over to talk to Lestrade.

“One would think I’m not in the room the way you’re all talking about me,” Sherlock grumbled.

“You’re usually not,” John grinned, rubbing Sherlock’s shoulder, his fingers slipping below his shirt. Neither man moved to pull apart. Felix quirked an eyebrow before motioning for Molloy to follow, leading her over to the kitchen.

“May I ask how you put up with my brother? He can’t be much fun to have around in any situation!”

Molly laughed nervously. “Oh he’s not so bad really.”

“I beg to differ. He used me as a human guinea pig for five years of my life.”

“Well, uh…”

Felix smiled. “Don’t tell me you have a ‘soft spot’ for him. He’s not all cheekbones and mystery. Underneath all that lies a massive twat.”

Molly sighed. “Oh, I know.”

“Don’t waste your time on him, he certainly won’t return your affections, and you deserve someone who sees you as more than a free pass to cadavers.”

“Oh yeah? Like who?”

“There will be someone, Miss Hooper, I assure you.”

Molly frowned down at the drink in her hands. “Why are you saying this? About your brother?”

“I love him, I do, but I’m much more sympathetic than my brothers. I certainly don’t like to see people hurt by their actions. John, Gregory, they’re both strong; but you strike me as vulnerable where Sherlock’s involved.”

“I’m not weak!”

“Of course not… But have you ever told Sherlock no?”

“Um…”

Felix smiled, gently touching Molly’s arm. “Try it. Tell him no, if just for the look on his face.”

“But… he’s so cruel.”

“He doesn’t respect you. You bow to his every whim. Don’t. Lestrade, John, they say no to him, they’re not afraid to reprimand him. And in doing so they’ve earnt his respect. You need to do the same.”

Molly sighed. “I’m too shy. I can’t say no.”

“You can. Next time Sherlock asks something of you, say no. Even if it’s reasonable, he can’t get everything he wants.”

Molly nodded, taking a sip of her wine. Felix cleared his throat and changed the subject onto something Molly was more comfortable discussing; their cats.

It wasn’t too long until she got to practise standing her ground.

“Molly, get me a drink, will you?”

Molly looked over, Sherlock wasn’t even looking at her, too busy enjoying the shoulder rub John seemed to be giving him. She looked to Felix, who nodded at her. “No.”

Sherlock’s head shot up, eyes wide with shock Molly had actually denied him something. “What?!”

Felix gave Molly a quirk of the lips, squeezing her elbow. She cleared her throat, eager to win back some of her pride.

“I said no. You’ve got legs.”

Sherlock’s lips thinned, diverting his glare to Felix. “What did you do?”

Felix shrugged, regarding the liquid in his glass, nonplussed by Sherlock’s glare. “I merely told Molly to stand up for herself. She’s not your doormat, Sherlock. Treat her with respect.”

Everyone in the room had gone silent, looking between Sherlock and his brother. John cleared his throat.

“Okay, boys, let’s not fight. Sherlock, they have a point. Get off your arse and get your own drink.”

Letting out a petulant sigh, Sherlock pulled himself up and out of his chair, and away from John’s hands, dragging himself to the kitchen.

Felix gave Molly another squeeze. “See, don’t you feel good?”

“Surprisingly, yeah.”

“Good. Without self-respect, there is no respect. Don’t let him walk over you, he’ll respect you for it.”

Molly nodded. “Yes. Okay.”

Felix grinned. “Brilliant.”

 

***  *  *  ***

As the evening continued, Molly found herself enjoying Felix’s company. They shared a love for cats and both had a morbid sense of humour. Molly told tales of the things that happened in the morgue; Felix was secretive about his job, but shared tales of a childhood growing up with Sherlock.

She almost missed all the little touches between John and Sherlock; John brushing aside a wayward curl from Sherlock’s face; Sherlock resting a hand on the small of John’s back; a lingering hand on the arm or knee; fingers briefly curling together. Instead she was focused on the little touches she was receiving from Felix. She knew she was probably reading too much into them, but he was being so nice, and they had quite a lot in common.

“Go on! Open it!” Lestrade cheered. Molly glanced over to where Sherlock was stood by the table, a gift in front of him. John, Mycroft, and Mrs Hudson were also stood around.

“No deducing it, just open it,” John chastised, bumping his hip against Sherlock’s thigh. The detective let out a good natured sigh and began to peel the wrapping away to reveal a boxed dart-board, a photo of Anderson sitting on the top.

“Oh don’t encourage him!” John laughed. Lestrade grinned.

“Thought you’d enjoy throwing darts at his face!”

Sherlock smiled. “The real thing would be preferable, but thank you.”

“An unprompted thank you, I’d say I’ve done well!”

John and Sherlock chuckled as Mrs Hudson pushed her present onto the table. Sherlock peeled away the garish paper.

“Those are some good bed-sheets. Soft. Don’t ruin them, boys.”

John’s smirk didn’t go amiss by Molly, her eyes narrowing. John suddenly moved away to the far bookcase, standing on his tiptoes to reach another wrapped box. He grinned at Sherlock.

“I know you already got my present, but I saw this and decided you needed it!”

Sherlock smiled, tearing away the paper, revealing the game of Operation. Lestrade cheered, Sherlock, John, and Mrs Hudson laughed.

“Thank you, John.”

“We can play it later.”

Sherlock’s hand curled around John’s waist, as he ducked his head John looked up, their lips brushing together, eyes fluttering closed. Mrs Hudson let out a happy “oh”, her hands clapping together.

Molly frowned, averting her eyes from the couple. “Oh.”

Felix eyed her suspiciously. “You didn’t know?”

“About them being together? No.”

“They got together during their case in Prague two months ago. Still very much in the honeymoon stage, but not very much into public displays of affection.”

“Oh, well… I’m happy for them.”

Felix frowned. “You’ll get over him, I promise.”

“You can’t promise something like that, it’ll never come true.”

“Of course it will. Don’t gauge your happiness on relationships, Molly, or you’ll never be happy.”

Molly scowled. “You’re saying I’ll never find anyone!”

“No, I’m saying, if you search for the perfect relationship you’ll never find it. You’ll pick holes in every relationship you have. Every man could always be a little more, or a little less… Just… learn to be happy by yourself, and find someone who improves your existence, and doesn’t define it.”

Molly stared at Felix, just able to make out her reflection in his glasses. “That’s… good advice!”

Felix smiled. “Thank you. It’s something I live by.”

Molly managed a smile of her own, blushing, averting her eyes down to her feet. She could hear Lestrade jeering at Sherlock, asking if he snogged everyone who gave him presents.

“I don’t think they world’s ready for Sherlock to be ‘snogging’ anyone,” Mycroft muttered. John chuckled.

“Except for myself, I hope.”

“Don’t worry, John. You were my first kiss, and intend for you to be last.”

“Surely not!” Mrs Hudson exclaimed. “Attractive man like you!”

“But a massive prat. No one wants to kiss a know-it-all,” Mycroft sneered. Sherlock sneered back.

“I suppose it’s hard for anyone to kiss you when you’re constantly stuffing your face with cake!”

“All right, boys, you’re both prats, stop arguing,” John snapped. Mycroft rolled his eyes, hooking his umbrella on his arm and made his way to the kitchen, pausing in front of Molly and Felix. He forced a smile, gently touching Molly’s arm.

“You’re much better off without my brother, Miss Hooper. You’d do better to find a man closer your level of maturity,” he said, before moving to the counter where the drinks were. Molly looked up at Felix, wide-eyed.

“Does everyone know?”

Felix smiled sheepishly. “I’m afraid so. You don’t have to be a genius detective to figure it out; you do make it frighteningly obvious. One only has to be in the room with the two of you for a few moments.”

“So all those sad looks people gave me,” Molly frowned. “They knew. They knew I like him and he never liked me back.”

“Move on, Molly, don’t let him claim permanent residence in your mind.”

“I feel so pathetic.”

“It’s okay. Everyone has to face the perils of unrequited love at some point. Even Sherlock.”

Molly drained her glass, reaching behind her for the bottle to refill it. “Even you?”

“Of course. I am human.”

“I don’t know,” Molly sighed.

“You just need something to take your mind off it.”

“I suppose.” Molly looked back over to where the others were gathered to see Sherlock and John with their arms wrapped around each other, holding the other as close as possible, gently rocking back and forth, happy smiles on their faces.

 

***  *  *  ***

It was Molly’s day off; she curled up on her couch, Toby her ginger cat curled on her lap. She had her phone in hand, staring at it, Felix’s number on screen as she tried to work up the courage to text him. She didn’t want to text him something as plebeian as “hey, how’re you,” but she also didn’t want to text something so unique it’d scare him off. Ever since the party, Sherlock had been the last thing on her mind. Felix had taken over. He was handsome, charming, funny, and wasn’t cruel to her. She liked him. A lot.

She finally managed to type a quick text, pressing ‘send’ before she could talk herself out of it.

_**“Thanks for sticking with me the other night. I needed a good pep talk.”** _

She threw her phone to the other end of the sofa, terrified of what his response could be. She scratched Toby between the ears until he purred, smiling at how eager he was to receive affection. She heard a low hum, that definitely wasn’t a purr. Cautiously grabbing her phone, Molly unlocked it. Felix had text back. Molly took a deep breath, thumb hovering over the “read” button.

“Okay Moll. If he doesn’t tell you to stuff it, it’s gone well.”

She pressed the button.

_**“It was my pleasure. Family get-togethers are certainly not my ‘thing’, I’m glad I had someone to share the tedious experience with.”** _

Molly couldn’t help the little squeal that escaped as she read. Felix hadn’t even said anything substantial. It took her a few moments to think of something to respond with.

_**“I don’t blame you. Holmes get-togethers must be exhausting. I think I feel sorry for John and what he’s gotten himself into.”** _

Felix’s response was quite hasty, Molly couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach, she had high hopes.

_**“As do I. Although from what I understand, John is quite an extraordinary person. I’m sure if anyone can handle my family, it’s him. He and Sherlock are quite suitably matched.”** _

_**“So how come you don’t see much of your family? You never said.”** _

_**“Well, 1: I don’t particularly want to. and 2: My job. I never said because I can’t really discuss my job. I work for the government, that’s all I can say without putting either of us at risk.”** _

_**“Sounds exciting!”** _

_**“Oh quite! Never a dull moment in my life.”** _

_**“So what do you do when you’re tired of all the excitement?”** _

_**“I go home, make a cup of tea, put on one of my boxsets and play with Oscar.”** _

Molly grinned; she remembered Felix telling her about Oscar, how the tabby cat had been found as a newborn rejected by his mother and that Felix had raised it by himself. He’d even shown her several pictures of the cat.

_**“I’ve got Toby on my knee right now, a bit annoyed I’m not paying complete attention to him.”** _

_**“Poor fellow, I can’t imagine how terrible it must feel to not have your attention. Perhaps you should give him a scratch.”** _

_**“I’ll give him a good scratch from you.”** _

_**“See that you do. I can’t wait to meet him.”** _

A nervous giggle erupted from Molly; Toby gave her a curious look, his tail swishing against her chest. She went to reply, but her phone vibrated again.

_**“Apologies, Molly, but I’ve got some serious work to do. I shall text you back when I return home. Be safe. x”** _

Sighing, Molly put her phone on the arm of the sofa. She’d been excited texting Felix, she could actually feel her pulse racing. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way with Sherlock, probably because he’d been a complete arse from the very beginning.

She thought about Sherlock. Her heart didn’t skip a beat at the thought of him any more, she hope she really was over him. She’d yet to see him at Saint Bart’s, but she knew seeing him and John together would help her with her closure, especially with Felix on the horizon. The kiss at the end of the text had to have meant something, you didn’t send kisses to just anyone.

Felix didn’t text again that night. Or the following day. The day after that she was working in the labs when Sherlock and John burst in. Sherlock ignored her in favour of rushing over to his favourite microscope and pulling something from his pocket, placing it under the lens. John hovered by the door, hands in his pockets. He smiled at Molly.

“Morning.”

“Hello, John.”

“How’re you?”

“Oh fine. I’m just analysing the fungus I found between Mrs Pike’s toes… And you?”

“As good as can be. Sherlock got a new case this morning. A nine!”

Molly smiled, she remembered Sherlock explaining his scale to her. “Exciting.”

“Yeah. Any minute now he’ll have the answer and I’ll have to chase him across London.”

A phone went off; Molly dived for hers on the other side of the table.

“It was mine,” Sherlock said. “John, would you be so kind?”

John sighed, walking over to Sherlock. “Where is it?”

“Trouser pocket?”

“Is it actually or is this your crude way of making me touch you up?”

Sherlock looked up from his microscope, smirking wickedly at John. “I’d hardly fake a text to make you grope me, John. And you hardly need any encouragement.”

John blushed, reaching into Sherlock’s pocket and pulled out his phone, pushing it into the detective’s hand. Molly frowned, looking from the couple down to her blank phone. She’d resigned herself to the fact that Felix wasn’t going to text back.

“My brother is quite busy at the moment,” Sherlock said, not looking up from his phone. Molly’s head snapped up.

“Excuse me?”

“Felix. He’s busy. He can’t reply to your texts.”

“Who said I was-”

“You haven’t met anyone new since my birthday other than Felix, and by the way you were looking at him it’s obvious you’re attracted to him. He gave you his number. You texted back and forth but it’s been a few days; you’re getting nervous, a little depressed, you’re doubting he’s interested in you — he’s not, by the way — but I thought you’d like to know he’s busy working.”

Molly scowled. “You’re wrong.”

“Molly, my brother works for MI-6, in quite a substantial position. He’s working an important mission. He hasn’t been home in three days.”

“How could you possibly-”

“We’re on cat-sitting duty,” John smiled. Sherlock seethed.

“Yes. John’s attempts to reconnect me with my family means there’s a bloody cat in my home!”

“I’ll look after Oscar! I don’t mind!”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Very well.”

John stared between the two, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Really?! Sherlock, you can’t just give away your brother’s cat!”

“It’s Molly. She’ll tell Felix she’s got him. Clearly a ploy on her part to get him to her flat but I’m not going to interfere.”

Molly cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to ignore Sherlock’s little snide remarks; it wasn’t a ploy to get Felix round, it was a good opportunity — if Oscar was at Molly’s, Felix would have a good reason to go over to hers. She tried not to dwell on the thought, the more she thought the creepier and weirder it sounded. “So… He works for MI-6?”

Sherlock sighed, waving his hand in John’s face. John rolled his eyes, sitting down on the stool closest to Molly.

“That’s pretty much all you’re allowed to know. It’s all very hush-hush, y’know? But yeah… Sherlock’s brother works for the secret service. Not spying or anything, I think he’s in tech or something? He was very vague on the details.”

Molly nodded, eyes wide with fascination. “So who does know?”

“Sherlock knows more than me. But I think Mycroft’s the only one who knows the full extent of Felix’s job, him being the government and all…”

“Is it dangerous, do you think?”

“Oh God yeah! I’ve been told it’s pretty much exactly like the movies. Not as high-tech and stuff, but dangerous, definitely!”

Molly frowned. “I hope he’s okay…”

Sherlock let out a loud huff. “He’s fine! He has a slew of agents looking after his well-being, and that’s not even to mention any and all of Mycroft’s meddling! Felix is safe! Can we stop discussing my brother?!”

John grinned. “Jealous you’re not the centre of attention?”

“Hardly. I just prefer to work in peace.”

“You’re jealous.”

“John, please, do stop being juvenile.”

John chuckled and winked at Molly, shuffling back over to Sherlock’s side. Molly smiled meekly, turning back to her own work, trying to imagine what Felix was doing, wondering if he thought about her at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring jealous and possessive Bond behind the scenes.

On her way home she detoured to Baker street. John was the only one home; he welcomed her in and rushed about collecting Oscar’s things whilst Molly played with the cat. He was wonderfully friendly, his back arching into every touch as Molly stroked him, purring loudly, even louder than Toby. She’d worried about Toby and Oscar getting on, she couldn’t take care of the cat if they’d be fighting whilst she was at work, but she had the feeling they’d be getting on.

“It’s good of you to do this, Molly,” John smiled, putting the cat’s things into a bag. “I think another day and poor Oscar would be a subject of Sherlock’s experiments.”

Molly chuckled, curling her fingers around Oscar’s tail. “It’s my pleasure. It’s no secret I love cats.”

“Felix will be getting his cat back, won’t he? This isn’t a plot to steal cats?”

“John!”

John laughed, reaching down to scratch Oscar between the ears. “I’m kidding! It’s a pity, I quite liked having him around, but Sherlock... well, I think he’s more of a dog person... I thought about getting him one. A dog. A nice sturdy one. One that could handle being experimented on. But it’s a bit cruel, isn’t it, bringing a living thing into this environment.”

Molly smiled. “It sounds like a nice gesture. And you never know, Sherlock might not experiment on it.”

“Have you met Sherlock Holmes?!”

“Fair enough,” Molly giggled. “Is this everything?”

“Yup. He’s all yours. For now.”

“Great. Well, I’d better get him to a safe environment.”

“Don’t forget to tell Felix you’ve got him. I’d hate for him to turn up and think we’ve offed him; Sherlock would probably tell him we did.”

“I will. Just need to make sure he and Toby get on first.” Molly got Oscar into his cage and set off home, going as quick as she could with the extra baggage. When she got in, Toby was instantly suspicious of the newcomer; Oscar was also quite wary, staying in his cage, only occasionally popping his head out to view his new surroundings. Some time into the evening, Toby ventured into Oscar’s cage and didn’t come out. There was no screeching or yowling, Molly considered it a success. She sent Felix a text, explaining she’d rescued his cat and settled in for a quiet evening.

Oscar quickly settled in to living at Molly’s, he and Toby darting around the flat, sharing everything, curling up together to sleep. Molly didn’t want to give him back. She hoped it’d turn into ‘101 Dalmatians’, Felix realising their cats were in love and it’d be cruel to break them up. It would be a great story to tell at their wedding, to tell their grandchildren.

It was another two days before Felix contacted her. Molly’s heart lurched in her chest when his name appeared on her phone.

_**“Thank you for saving Oscar from what would have been a terrible fate, I haven’t the faintest idea what possessed me to leave him with my brother. I hope you don’t mind keeping him another day, I have almost a week’s worth of sleep to catch up on.”** _

Molly grinned, looking over to where the cats were batting a toy mouse back and forth.

_**“It’s no problem. Oscar’s a beautiful cat. I think I’ll be reluctant to let him go, he and Toby have become such good friends!”** _

_**“I can’t wait to see. I’ll see you tomorrow, right now my bed’s calling me, promising a comfortable sleep that doesn’t involve being slumped over a desk.”** _

Chuckling, Molly set her phone back down, thinking about making a start on tidying up, she wanted to make a good impression. She wrote a quick shopping list, hoping to persuade Felix to stay for dinner, it’d be nice to talk to him face-to-face again; she didn’t want him to grab his cat and go. She made quick work of tidying up, fixing all the homely touches, eradicating every speck of dust and restocking the fridge.

The next day, after Molly finished her shift, she stepped outside to find Felix waiting for her, leaning against a lamppost, immersed in his phone.

“This is a nice surprise.”

Felix looked up and smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. How’s he been?”

Molly smiled. “He’s perfect.”

“Brilliant.”

They fell into step side by side as Molly led the way to her flat, making small talk about their weeks. Molly wished she could keep that moment, nice conversation with a nice guy who was lovely to look at; it was an added bonus he loved cats.

Oscar recognised Felix the moment they entered the flat, entwining himself between his owner’s feet. Felix grinned, lifting him to his chest.

“Hey Oscar, miss me?”

Oscar purred loudly, nuzzling his head into Felix’s chest as his neck was scratched. Molly smiled, hovering by the sofa, watching. Toby jumped up onto the back of the sofa, nudging Molly’s arm.

“This is Toby,” Molly grinned, stroking a hand down the cat’s back. Felix grinned too.

“He’s lovely.”

“I think it’s dinner time for these two. Would you like some? ...Normal food! Not cat food, obviously. I... Oh, um...”

Felix laughed, gently letting Oscar slip out of his arms. “Human food would be great, yes.”

Molly blushed, leading the way to the kitchen. Felix followed, sitting at the table as Molly fixed the cats their food; they rushed in at the sound of the food hitting the bowl. Felix smiled.

“They do seem to be very good friends... I’m not sure I have the heart to split them up.”

Molly tried to restrain her grin. “I know...”

“But Oscar must be missing his girlfriend back home.”

Molly’s smile fell. “He has a girlfriend?”

“Yeah. A ginger tabby by the name of Lola -- he has a type. They’ve been in love since they met on the fire escape about two years ago.”

“Sweet.”

“It was until Lola turned up pregnant. Mrs Broadbent almost keeled over, she was sure she’d had Lola spayed.”

Molly giggled. “What happened?”

Felix shrugged. “We looked after the kittens until they were old enough to sell.”

“Didn’t you keep any?”

“No. The only one still around is the youngest -- Topsy -- because she was given to the little girl next door to Mrs Broadbent.”

“It all sounds... lovely.”

“Up until I had Oscar fixed. He didn’t like me for a few weeks.”

“Well, understandable.”

Felix grinned. He got up to help Molly fix dinner, the two of them moving around the kitchen like it was a dance they’d done a thousand times before. Molly felt her skin tingle every time they touched, her stomach doing somersaults every time Felix flashed her a smile. They flopped down on the sofa to eat, barely paying attention to Downton Abbey as they talked.

Molly was sad to see him go, but Felix had insisted he had work nice and early the next morning. They made a promise to organise a coffee date and he was gone. Oscar’s presence was instantly missed; Toby sat by the front door for nearly an hour, mrowling desperately. Molly felt like her flat was empty and cold, unable to shift the frown from her face. Sighing, she decided an early night was in order.

The next day Molly and Felix only managed a few texts on their lunch breaks and when Felix got home. Felix’s texts were friendly and painfully polite, there was nothing playful and flirtatious at all. Except for one.

_**“We should get together for coffee soon, it’s been hard for me to focus on my work. Not to mention Oscar has been pining... He’s not the only one ;)”** _

Molly grinned, reading the text several times over. Her phone vibrated before she could even think of typing a response.

_**“Please disregard the last message. My pain in the arse co-worker is a twat. But he’s right, we should organise coffee.”** _

_**“Certainly, when are you free? And I thought you were home, why’s your co-worker there?”** _

_**“I’ve been known to bring my work home with me. Plus he seems to enjoy sleeping on my sofa. Is tomorrow okay? I can get an hour or two free.”** _

They organised a time and a place for coffee the next day before moving on to discussing their cats, Molly explaining how saw Toby had been since Oscar’s departure.

_**“Sorry Molly, I’ve got to go. Apparently it’s rude to text whilst you’ve got guests. James is threatening to destroy my phone if I don’t pay attention to him.”** _

_**“He sounds quite needy.”** _

_**“You have no idea. I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Toby I say hello. x.”** _

Molly smiled, beckoning Toby onto her knee. She shut her eyes and let her head fall back, running through scenarios of how coffee would go. The first scenarios involved a lot of awkward accidental touches until Felix gave in and laced their fingers together. Molly flexed her fingers as they combed through Toby’s fur, imagining what it’d feel like to hold Felix’s hand.

The second scenario involved Felix fumbling over his words and accidentally confessing his love for her.

The final scenario had Molly tripping and falling into Felix’s lap, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes like in the movies until the next thing they knew they were kissing. That was her favourite.

She was excited for coffee with Felix.

Sherlock deduced it instantly. He flounced into the labs in the morning, eyeing Molly suspiciously. “You’re going out later, on a date. You’ve done your hair, and make-up; you’re wearing one of your nicer dresses. Wearing your good perfume. Serious? First date, I’d wager... with... Are you still trying to court my brother?!”

“It’s none of your business,” Molly huffed. Sherlock rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the reason he was there. They worked in silence for a while until Sherlock let out another sigh. Molly slumped, not wanting to hear whatever it was Sherlock was going to say.

“You really should focus your efforts on someone else.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because Felix isn’t interested in a relationship with you.”

“How would you know? You barely see him! I talk to him more than you do!”

“Mycroft informed me Felix is ‘in love’. I’m sure it’s not you.”

Molly scowled. “How do you know, did he tell you?”

“An interest in cats is not a viable reason to start a relationship.”

“How would you know?! And he’s nice to me, Sherlock.”

“He’s nice to everyone. Take my word, Molly, this won’t end well.”

“Can’t you just keep your nose out of my business?! Just because I’m not interested in you anymore doesn’t mean you can try to ruin every other relationship I may have!”

“That’s not my intent, but if you insist. But expect to hear ‘I told you so’ when it inevitably fails.”

Molly huffed, storming out of the lab, marching down to the morgue; the cadavers never forced their opinions on her, regardless of if she asked for it. She wanted to calm down before her date with Felix, she didn’t want to spend all their time together complaining about how much of an arsehole his brother was. She sat at the desk completing menial tasks until her encounter with Sherlock was pushed from her mind.

She made it to the agreed-upon café at 12:45; Felix was already there. He got to his feet, pulling Molly into a quick embrace, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“You look lovely.”

Molly smiled. “Thank you. I thought I might dress up, can’t look frumpy every day.”

“I suppose working in a morgue, no one appreciates any effort you put into your appearance.”

“Yes. The dead don’t have many opinions on things... Though I’m sure if they didn, my dress sense wouldn’t be a top priority.”

The two laughed, Felix motioning for a waitress to come over. They hadn’t been speaking long when Felix’s phone rang. He looked at the call ID before rolling his eyes good naturedly, raising the phone to his ear.

_“What do you want?_  
 _“You know I’m having coffee with Molly, stop being a dick.  
“James you’re being childish.”_

Molly eyed Felix suspiciously.

_“James, it’s rude to be on the phone when you’ve got company._  
 _“Yes it does apply to you!_  
 _“You forget I have the means to hack your data!_  
 _“Of course I’d dare! I think I may change your code-name to snuggly-bear._  
 _"M would be thoroughly amused. Tanner may laugh himself into a coma._  
 _“I could change your basic info, too. Five-ten, blonde hair, blue eyes, massive twat._  
 _“Really, James? Penis jokes? What was that about not being childish?_  
 _“Do you really wish to find out if they’re idle threats?_  
 _“Leave me to my coffee in peace. I’m allowed friends other than you._  
 _“Get back to work, James, I’ll see you later._  
 _“Bye.”_

Felix hung up, smiling awkwardly at Molly. “I apologise. James really is a terrible person sometimes... Well, most of the time.”

“Did he just ring to interrupt?”

“I’m afraid so... Anyway...”

Conversation between them flowed naturally, there were no awkward fumbling for words. There were no awkward fumblings with body parts, either. Molly wondered if everything would progress like she’d imagined in her third scenario. She thought about excusing herself to the bathroom, tripping and landing on his knee, but she didn’t think she had the coordination for it. Knowing her luck she’d just fall flat on her face and make a prize fool of herself.

She was brought out of her daydream by Felix’s phone vibrating on the table. He quickly read the text and laughed, typing out a reply.

“Sorry for the rudeness, Molly.”

Molly forced a smile. “It’s okay... Is it James?”

“It is. He seems incapable of leaving me alone, even when he has important work to be doing.”

“Very important?”

“Yes. He’s going away in a week... You’ll have me all to yourself, then.”

Molly smiled. “Wonderful.”

“You should come over, we could watch Criminal Minds.”

“Yes! Definitely!”

Felix grinned. “Now to get James out of the country.”

“Easier said than done?”

“Somewhat. He’s intent on curing my fear of flying so he can take me with him.”

“You’re afraid of flying?”

“Terrified.”

“That’s... adorable.”

Felix laughed. “I’m a grown man. ‘Adorable’ isn’t quite what I’m going for.”

Molly giggled. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Personally, I find men too invested in being ‘manly’ to be tiring.”

“They definitely are. I couldn’t be manly if I tried, effemination is a natural Holmes trait.”

“I don’t think you’d suit being butch.”

“No, nor do I. I’ve learnt to accept this is probably as big as I’m going to get.”

Molly smiled, taking the opportunity to give Felix the once over. She quite liked the way he looked, how thin he was, the way his hair just appeared to be perched on the top of his head. She blushed when she noticed Felix was watching her check him out.

“Sorry.”

Felix chuckled. “It’s fine. We’ll just neglect to tell James this. He’d be even more insufferable than usual.”

“He’s very protective of you.”

“Very. If it were socially acceptable for him to piss in a circle around me, he would.”

Molly frowned. “Strange behaviour for a co-worker.”

Felix just chuckled, raising his cup to his lips. Molly didn’t like the sound of “james”. Felix barely mentioned him, but when he did he didn’t make him sound like a very sane individual; if she worked with someone like that, she’d have reported them long ago.

Felix’s phone vibrated again. He rolled his eyes at this text. “I’m sorry, Molly, just a second.” He pressed a button and raised the phone to his ear. _“James. Stop spying on us and get back to work._  
 _“Well stop abusing government property to spy on us._  
 _“No, you also can’t use government property to do a background check on her._  
 _“She’s not a member of the KGB._  
 _“Or the Italian mafia._  
 _“James stop. You’re worse than Mycroft!_  
 _“Yes I just went there! Get back to work!_  
 _“Don’t you dare trump up charges to have her extradited to Cuba!_  
 _“She’s a friend, James! I’m allowed friends!_  
 _“Just because you don’t know how to make friends doesn’t mean I’m not allowed them. Stop this before I call M._  
 _“I’ll see you later.”_

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, rubbing his temples. “I am so sorry, Molly.”

Molly frowned into her drink. “No, it’s... fine.”

“No it’s not. I’m going to kill him when I get back to work.”

“Do you think we should call it a day? Before he just comes down and actually pees on you?”

Felix sighed, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Sure. I’m really sorry about this. I’ll make it up to you when he leaves. I’ll take you out to dinner.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I’ll get a written apology from him, too.”

They both got to their feet, Felix pulled Molly into a hug, giving her a gentle squeeze and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. Molly couldn’t help but smile, letting her eyes fall closed, inhaling the scent of his aftershave.

“Nice to see you. Speak to you soon, Molly Hooper.”

“You too, Felix.”

They both went their separate ways; Molly tried to focus on the good points of the date. She was convinced things would have led somewhere if not for James. But on the bright side, he was to be going away soon and she and Felix would spend a lot of time together. She’d see to it.

Sherlock grimaced when Molly went back into the lab. “You smell like him.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “He hugged me.”

“Sounds like it’s getting serious. Soon you’ll be emailing each other pictures of cats.”

“Just... shut up, Sherlock! Can’t you let me keep this one shred of happiness?!”

“It won’t last long,” Sherlock muttered, adjusting his eyepiece on his microscope.

“Well, I’d rather have a moment of happiness than be miserable all the time like you. I don’t know how John puts up with you!”

“Nor do I.”

Molly frowned. “What?”

“I said, nor do I. I have nothing to offer John. I’m certainly not relationship material. I’m rude, anti-social, a nightmare to live with; frankly, I’m a terrible person. And yet... he chose me.”

“Sherlock... I didn’t mean-”

“You don’t need to apologise, you’re not the only one who thinks that. I’m lucky John isn’t swayed by people’s opinions.”

“You’re lucky to have him.”

“Very.”

“And he’s lucky to have you. I don’t believe in soul mates, but if I did, I’d be convinced you and John were made for each other.”

Sherlock quirked a small smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry for snapping.”

“No, you’re completely justified.”

 

 

***  *  *  ***

That evening, Molly was vegging out in front of the TV, stroking Toby when her phone went off. It was a text from Felix, containing a media file; a picture of a written letter.

_“Dear Molly, I formally apologise for being a terrible human being. The way I interrupted your meeting with Felix was unprofessional, immature, and downright rude._   
_“I understand Felix is not my property and is free to befriend whoever he wishes._   
_“In the future I shall not interfere whenever you and Felix. meet up. And though you don’t require it, you have my permission to be his friend._   
_“Apologies; James.”_

Molly smiled, typing a quick response.

_**“Did he actually write that?”** _

_**“Yes. I threatened him, and I assure you, my handwriting is much neater.”** _

_**“So does this mean we’re allowed to text?”** _

_**“For now. If I neglect him for too long he starts clawing the drapes.”** _

_**“Have you ever considered trading him in for a sane human?”** _

_**“Sometimes. But James has his uses. They’re few in numbers, but I like to keep him around.”** _

Molly chuckled to herself, changing the subject; she was finally free to talk to Felix, she didn’t want to spend that time discussing his crazy friend. She was sure Felix was definitely flirting with her, his texts contained a lot more innuendo and smilies.

_**“Molly. I need to tell you something.”** _

Molly felt her pulse quicken as she stared at her phone.

_**“Oh yeah?”** _

It took a few moments for Felix to reply.

_**“I’m a little drunk right now. And I’m not wearing many clothes.”** _

_**“That’s quite the secret.”** _

_**“I’m probably going to die of embarrassment when I look back at what I text you in the morning, but right now I’m too drunk to care.”** _

_**“I’d be tempted to join you getting drunk, but I don’t need to be hungover at work tomorrow.”** _

_**“When James goes away we shall get drunk. I have a feeling you’re more fun to get drunk with.”** _

_**“Are you with James?”** _

_**“Of course. When am I not?”** _

Molly frowned.

_**“Perhaps he wouldn’t be such a crazy stalker if you told him to back off?”** _

She didn’t receive another text for a long while; she began to get afraid she’d upset him. Obviously James meant something to him if he put up with his constant presence. Twenty minutes after her text her phone vibrated.

_**“This is James: I’m not a crazy stalker, I resent that. I’m very close to Felix. Right now I’ve confiscated his phone because he needs to go to bed. He shall respond tomorrow. Goodnight.”** _

Sighing, Molly threw her phone to the other end of the sofa. She didn’t feel like competing with James for Felix’s affections, he already had the upperhand, having known him for longer. She just hoped she could make a lot of progress when James went away.

 

 

***  *  *  ***

When James finally did go away, Molly had made sure to book several days off work, knowing Felix had done the same. The first day she had work. Sherlock, John, and Greg turned up in the morgue to identify a body. After several moments Sherlock ran off, shouting something, John running after him. Lestrade huffed and folded his hands into his pockets.

“Infuriating ponce... Hey Molly.”

Molly grinned. “Morning Greg.”

“Ooh, someone’s in a good mood!”

“Well... yes...”

“Any reason?”

Molly felt her cheeks flush. “I’ve got the next few days off. And Felix and I are going to... hang out.”

Lestrade grinned. “Nice! Wait, Felix as in Sherlock’s brother?”

“Yeah... I think he could be the one, y’know?”

“Oh... Really? I was sure he was gay.”

“No, he’s just effeminate.”

“Right... Well, good for you. I hope it works out for you. It’s nice to see you moving on from Sherlock.”

“Yes. Well, that’s Felix’s doing.”

“So, what have you got planned?”

Molly shrugged, sure he cheeks were glowing; it all felt that much more real having someone to talk to about it. “Nothing’s set in stone, he’ll text me later. But we’ll be watching Criminal Minds one day. He said he planned on taking me to dinner.”

“Nice!”

“I hope so. I’ve got a good feeling about Felix.”

“Well, good luck. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a consulting detective to track down.”

Molly smiled, waving him off, turning back to her work with a happy hum.

Felix texted when she went on her dinner break, asking if she wanted to go for dinner after work. Molly grinned, texting back eagerly. They exchanged messages for just under an hour until they had to get back to work. No amount of gruesome, mangled bodies being wheeled into the morgue could wipe the smile from Molly’s face.

She jumped into the shower the moment she got home. She had just over an hour until she had to leave. She put a lot of effort into her hair and make-up, slipping on the evening dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. This could be the date that starts it all. With no James to interrupt, Molly would have Felix’s undivided attention; she was sure sparks were going to fly.

She arrived at the restaurant purposefully five minutes late; Felix was already sat at the table, reading the menu. There was an opened bottle of red wine on the table, next to a burning candle. Everything was perfect. She quickly checked her reflection and went to make her presence known. Felix grinned, jumping to his feet.

“You look fantastic! Are you meeting with someone later?”

Molly giggled nervously. “Of course not. Just... thought I’d dress up. I rarely have occasion.”

Felix pulled out her chair so she could sit. “Well, you look lovely. You’ll definitely be turning heads tonight.”

Molly smiled; she didn’t care how many heads she turned, as long as Felix liked it.

They made pleasant small talk about their days and the menu until their order was taken. Conversation turned to their cats and the latest episode the Great British Bake-off.

“We sound like old ladies,” Felix chuckled. “Baking and cats... Tell me, do you knit?”

Molly giggled. “Afraid not. I can sew, though!”

“Oh, I’ll have to teach you.”

“You knit?”

“Of course. All Holmes’ are taught home-keeping; knitting, sewing, cooking... I’m sure Sherlock has deleted it all.”

“But you kept on to it?”

“Of course, always a useful skill.”

Molly sighed happily. Felix was perfect; they got on so well, they had lots in common, he made her laugh; she just wished their courtship would hurry up.

They skipped dessert in favour of strolling home. Molly contemplated inviting Felix up as they walked towards her flat. She decided to bite the bullet and hoped it’d pay off.

“Would you like to come up? For some coffee?”

“Certainly. Is Toby still awake?”

Molly smiled, unlocking her front door. “Should be.”

Everything had been going well; dinner had been wonderful and Felix had accepted the offer of “coffee”, which was the international code-word for sex. Molly didn’t like to think of herself as ‘easy’, but she and Felix were obviously compatible, they didn’t need to mess about with more dates when they could skip ahead.

“Do you have decaf?”

Molly’s smile faltered. “What?”

“Decaf. If I’m not working I try to stay away from drinking coffee past six pm.”

“Oh... I’ll see.”

Sighing, Molly padded through to the kitchen, having kicked off her shoes when she’d walked in. Surely Felix couldn’t be that dense. She found a jar of decaffeinated coffee and put the kettle on to boil, going back to the living room. Felix was sat by the sofa, legs crossed, Toby pawing up his chest. Molly smiled, leaning against the doorframe, watching the adorable scene in front of her. Felix glanced up and noticed her, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry. I hope you don’t think I’m just using you for your cat.”

Molly giggled. “It’s fine... Um, how do you take your coffee?”

“As is. Just add water. I’d eat it if it wasn’t considered weird.”

Retreating to the kitchen, Molly made the drinks, listening to Felix making cooing sounds and Toby purr. Felix remained on the floor when Molly went back into the room.

“I hope Oscar doesn’t think I’m cheating on him.”

“I think he’ll understand, if it’s Toby.”

“I hope so... I’m really going to have to steal him, I’m sorry.”

Molly forced a laugh, resisting the urge to tell him he could keep Toby if they got married. She didn’t want to come on too strong.

Felix helped the cat perch on his shoulder before reaching for his mug, smiling up at Molly after taking a sip.

“Nice. Much better than Starbucks.”

“It’s only Nescafé.”

“Yes, well. I’m convinced the key ingredient in Starbucks’ coffee is mud. It’s horrible. Much prefer independent coffee shops.”

“I’m so used to cheap cafeteria machine coffee to really complain about anything else.”

The room went quiet, Molly nursing her coffee close to her chest, watching Felix and Toby play together. She’d hoped he’d join her on the couch and they’d get close, but Felix seemed reluctant to move anywhere. It was hard to get close when the other person wasn’t even on the same piece of furniture.

“You can just tell me to put the cat down,” Felix laughed. “I know I’m being quite antisocial. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s nice to see someone else enthusiastic about cats. I’m the same when I’m at some people’s houses.”

“Do you ever wonder about the cast amount of things we have in common?”

“Perhaps we’re soul mates.”

Felix shrugged. “Soul mates is a bit... sentimental.”

Molly frowned. “I suppose.”

“Do you believe in soul mates?”

“No... It’s a nice idea, but, it’s not very... realistic, is it?”

“Certainly not. I’m not a romantic by any means, either, all we can really do is find someone who we can stand and satisfies us in bed...”

Molly stared at Felix wide-eyed. “Wow, okay... and they say romance is dead.”

Felix chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in love. I love being in love, but... romance. It’s too much effort. I prefer a partner who just enjoys my company, and doesn’t need surprise dinners and holidays for two on a private island... Someone independant, who doesn’t need me, but wants me.”

“I understand. I used to want all of that, the romance, but nowadays...”

“I need someone who understands my line of work. I’d probably have to work on important dates. I need someone who doesn’t mind not seeing me for long periods of time, but then also won’t mind spending a day in bed when I return.

“I need... someone who’s just happy getting on with their own thing and doesn’t need me to constantly hold their hand or cuddle them.”

Molly nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “All I really want... is just someone to love me.”

Felix smiled. “That’s not too much to ask for... You’ll find someone.”

Molly looked away; Felix didn’t seem to be picking up on her hints. They were hardly subtle. She started to dread the idea that he could just view her as a friend only, and not girlfriend material. She knew she needed to ramp up her flirting without making it painfully obvious, she didn’t want to come across as desperate. She cleared her throat and looked back to Felix, Toby still curled up in his arms.

“What’s your type?” she asked. “You know... physically?”

“Well... generally, no real preference but I usually go for someone who’s not twice the size of me. The last thing I need is snapping in half... Nut... I quite like blondes. I mean, specifically, right now, I really like blonde... short hair.”

Molly frowned. “What?”

“Yes. Definitely no longer than mine.”

“Oh... That’s quite specific.”

“Not really...”

“Well anyway...”

Felix nodded, changing the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cookies for anyone who can guess what was actually happening when Q was drunk.  
> By the way, James definitely knows what Molly's game is, hence why he's being a bit of a dick.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Molly and Felix went to the cinema. Molly became increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress; every time she brushed her hand against his, he moved it away; every time their hands met in the popcorn he apologised and pulled away. Every ‘accidental’ touch was apologised for and not taken advantage of.

The day after, Molly went over to Felix’s to watch TV. Her first impression of Felix’s flat was that he didn’t live alone; there were car magazines by the side of the armchair, and a decanter of whiskey on the table on the other side. On the shelf were books Molly was sure Felix wouldn’t read, and a porcelain bulldog.

“Get comfortable, I just need to grab my laptop... Not in the armchair! James doesn’t like people sitting in it.”

Molly frowned as she gingerly sat herself down on the sofa. Felix nipped into what she assumed was the bedroom, returning with his laptop and some cables. He began hooking them up to the TV as Molly took another look around.

“Why does James have an armchair?”

Felix shrugged. “Because. He blagged it, moved it in here, it’s his spot. I’m content on the sofa or at my desk.”

“Doesn’t he have his own flat?”

“Yes. Though it’s more storage than anything.”

“Is he always here?”

“Pretty much. He... doesn’t like being alone, you know? He’s damaged.”

“Oh...”

“Anyway, Criminal Minds!”

Felix settled on the sofa, on the other side as Molly, Oscar instantly jumping onto his lap. Molly found it hard to concentrate on the show, busy thinking of ways she could inch closer. Things weren’t playing out how she’d imagined; she’d thought they'd curl up together, maybe her head resting on his chest, their feet tangled together. She definitely hadn’t anticipated James’ ever constant presence; she couldn’t imagine having a friend who had a ‘spot’ in her flat. She couldn’t stop looking at the bulldog on the shelf, wondering why Felix had it.

“Are you okay?”

Molly’s head snapped up, Felix looking at her with a look of concern. She nodded hastily, trying to act natural.

“Yes. Just... wondering, the bulldog?”

Felix smiled. “James’. Very sentimental, left to him in a will... he hates it.”

“Why does he keep it if he hates it?”

“It’s complicated... but it means a lot to him... it’s a reminder... a very ugly one.”

“Oh.”

“It’s... it’s hard to explain, I mean, you’re not even supposed to know I work for MI-6. And as for James... It genuinely is a situation where I’d have to kill you if I told you. It’s called the Secret Service for a reason. James, and the bulldog... it’s work. It’s secret. I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. You get to see the civilian side of me. I can’t include you in my work, it’s too dangerous. I’d hate for someone to kidnap you and use you as leverage.”

Molly nodded. “I understand.”

“Please don’t think I don’t trust you. There’s just so much I can’t tell you. Things I wish I could, but... if they got out it wouldn’t bode well for me...”

“How do you even deal with it?”

“Well, usually, as a rule, I don’t fraternise with civilians. That’s why nearly no one knows I’m Sherlock’s brother... But you were nice. I wanted a friend who didn’t know me as... Q... Only several people know my name at work. It’s purposely impersonal...”

Molly forced a smile. “I won’t push, I promise. It’s just... there’s a whole side to you I don’t know.”

Felix reached over, squeezing her hand softly. “You’re not allowed to know... It’ll always be a secret.”

She nodded, deciding to let the subject drop and turned to the TV, attempting to catch up with everything she’d missed. Felix removed his hand and brushed it through Oscar’s fur.

Several episodes in, Felix’s phone went off. He frowned at it vibrating on the coffee table, reaching to see who was calling.

“Shit. Sorry Molly. I’ll be right back.”

He hurried to the kitchen, talking quickly and worriedly, Molly couldn’t make out what he was saying. He returned a few moments later with another laptop, setting it up next to the computer on his desk; Molly wondered how many more computers he had. He tapped at the keys quickly, things flashing on the screens that Molly couldn't comprehend. Her full attention was on Felix and whatever he was doing..

His head snapped up when there was a knock on his door; he rushed over and yanked it open, two men in suits bustling in.

“I’ve managed to pull up his last coordinates but there’s no trail. He’s off the grid,” Q said hurriedly, going back to his computer. One of the suited men looked at Molly like he’d never seen a woman before.

“Q? Who’s this?”

Felix looked up, suddenly remembering Molly was there. “Oh, Molly, I’m sorry, you couldn’t give us some privacy, could you?”

Molly nodded, pulling herself to her feet. “Sure. What-”

“You can wait in my room. I shouldn’t be too long, hopefully.”

She slipped through to Felix’s room, taking an interested look around. James’ presence had even made its way to Felix’s room; suits were hung up on the wardrobe door, with shirts that would dwarf Felix. There was an ashtray on the window seat, and she was sure Felix didn’t smoke. The dresser was clearly divided into Felix’s side and James’ side. James’ side had stupidly expensive aftershaves, a pair of cufflinks with what looked like diamonds in them, and an expensive looking watch. James clearly had very expensive taste, and the money to indulge. It made Molly wonder why he was sleeping on a friend’s sofa instead of investing in a two-bedroomed flat.

She continued looking around, pausing at the bookshelf when Felix burst in. He smiled sheepishly and went to the dresser, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocked the bottom drawer, pulling it open. Molly was shocked to see it had a number of guns cased in foam inside. He pulled one of the smaller guns out and a box just a little bigger, and hurried back out of the room.

It was another ten minutes before Felix let her back into the living room; it was messy and cluttered, papers left on the coffee table, wires streaming out of his laptop. The other two men had gone, but Felix looked moderately flushed.

“Sorry about that, just a little emergency, but... Are you hungry?”

***  *  *  ***

The next day, Molly was to go to Felix’s again. She hoped this attempt would run a lot smoother; the interruption the previous day had made everything awkward. Felix had been on edge, constantly checking his phone. She’d gone home early, giving him some time to be alone.

She was just getting ready to leave when her phone went off.

_**“So sorry, Molly. I have to cancel, something important’s come up. Hopefully we can reschedule. Sorry. x.”** _

Molly frowned, collapsing down on the sofa, staring at her phone. She looked over to Toby, watching him rolling around in the patch of sunlight on the carpet.

_**“It’s fine. Is everything okay? I don’t need to worry, do I?”** _

It was a while before she received a response.

_**“I’m fine, it’s just James arrived home four days early and refuses to go to hospital, so I need to sort him out. I’ll text you about rescheduling when he’s stopped bleeding everywhere.”** _

Molly was shocked by how uninterested Felix sounded, like wounded men turned up at his flat all the time. He probably did, she thought. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She didn’t want to sit in all day; she was dressed to go out.

After a lot of deliberating, she decided it’d be nice to go have some tea with Mrs Hudson. She pulled on her jacket and set off to Baker Street. Mrs Hudson was, indeed, glad to see her, ushering her through to her flat.

“How’re you keeping, dear? You’re looking well.”

Molly smiled, sitting down in an overstuffed armchair as Mrs Hudson began brewing the tea.

“I’m very good.”

“Ooh? New man?”

Molly blushed. “Sort of.”

“Oh, now you’ve got to tell me all about him!”

They shared tea and biscuits and cake, Molly telling Mrs Hudson a romanticised version of events of how things had gone with Felix. In return, Mrs Hudson told tales of her own.

Mrs Hudson had just refreshed the cup of tea when the front door shut loudly, a dog barking in the hallway. Mrs Hudson’s eyes lit up. “They got an adorable puppy, did I tell you?”

Molly grinned. “They got one?”

“Yes, come see.”

Both women moved to the hallway, where John was trying to help Sherlock take his coat off whilst a small bulldog puppy bounced about their feet, tangling them with it’s leash.

“He’s called Gladstone. He’s precious, isn’t he.”

Molly giggled, watching Gladstone bite John’s shoelace and pull.

“Still needs some training, obviously.”

“Gladstone! Heel!” John snapped, reaching down to grab the puppy's collar. It yipped happily, trying to bite at John’s hand. Sherlock managed to get his coat off and hung it up on the bannister. He looked up and smiled at Mrs Hudson and Molly.

“Afternoon.”

“How’s the training coming?”

Sherlock smirked and reached down to pick up Gladstone, holding him to his chest. “Getting there.”

Molly cooed, reaching to pet the dog, but Sherlock jerked away.

“No.”

Molly’s eyes widened in shock, Sherlock hurried up the stairs. John smiled meekly at Molly, gathering everything Sherlock had left behind.

“Sorry, Molly, Sherlock’s very attached; he doesn’t understand the concept of sharing.”

“So you bought a dog, then?”

“He was an impulse buy. I saw them for sale and just bought one. Luckily, Sherlock fell in love instantly.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Come on up, I’ll see if I can pry the poor creature away. He’s very friendly.”

The three of them went up to 221B; Molly didn’t expect to see Sherlock lying on the floor, Gladstone lying on his chest, a chew-toy in his mouth. Molly grinned.

“Adorable!”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t play with him.”

John rolled his eyes, dropping everything in his arms onto the sofa. “Sherlock, be nice. Share your pet.”

“I don’t want to.”

“He’s not just yours!”

Sherlock glared. “You have five minutes.”

Molly grinned and sat against the sofa as John scooped Gladstone up and lifted him over to her lap. Sherlock sat up and watched with narrowed eyes as Molly scrubbed a hand up and down the puppy’s back, tugging on the chew-toy playfully. John tapped on his shoulder, motioning for him to go sit in his armchair instead of brooding on the floor.

“Does he answer to his name?” Molly asked.

“Only to Sherlock. He only responds to me when food’s involved,” John replied, sitting on the arm of Sherlock’s chair. Sherlock nuzzled his face against John’s side until he could push his head through the gap between his arm and side; John chuckled and ruffled his hair. Molly smiled and turned back to the dog, letting it chew on her fingers.

“Molly. Are you still attempting to woo my brother?”

Molly let out a slow breath, not letting herself get annoyed by Sherlock’s tactlessness. “It’s none of your business, Sherlock.”

“I merely enquire.”

“No you don’t.”

“Sherlock, don’t,” John warned. Sherlock huffed, drumming his fingers on his lover’s leg, watching Molly intently, counting down the seconds until he could reclaim his dog. John made idle chit-chat with Mrs Hudson, Molly making the most of her allotted time with Gladstone.

Sherlock jumped up from his armchair. “Your five minutes is up. Give him back.” He strode over to where Molly was sat and grabbed Gladstone, rushing back over to his armchair. John rolled his eyes, pulling himself to his feet.

“God forbid you ever have a child if this is what you’re like with a dog.”

Sherlock said nothing, all of his attention on his puppy. John wandered into the kitchen, filling the kettle. Molly smiled meekly at Mrs Hudson, pulling herself up onto the sofa, watching the detective and his pet. He suddenly looked up, a look of realisation spreading across his face, slowly turning to look at Molly. Molly’s eyes widened apprehensively. An obviously fake smile found its way onto Sherlock’s lips.

“Molly... are you busy next Tuesday?”

Molly’s eyes narrowed, justly suspicious. “No...”

“Do you think you’d be able to take Gladstone to the vets for us? He has to go for a check-up and John and I are busy.”

“You’re... going to trust me with your dog?”

Sherlock shrugged, scratching Gladstone behind the ear. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I barely got five minutes to play with him.”

“Not wanting you to play with my dog and not trusting you with him are two different concepts. Were I not busy I would take him myself, but as I already stated, I’m otherwise engaged. Will you, or will you not do me a favour and take Gladstone to the vets?”

Molly rolled her eyes, not expecting Sherlock to get suddenly hostile. “Fine, okay.”

“Good. I shall text you the details and drop him off at yours before we leave. Please ensure your cat doesn’t attack him.”

John wandered back into the living room, holding out two cups of tea towards Molly and Mrs Hudson. “What’re we talking about?”

“Molly agreed to take Gladstone to the vets on Tuesday, on account of our being busy,” Sherlock said, giving John a look. Molly frowned; she knew the look meant something. John opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when Sherlock’s eyebrows rose in challenge. He nodded, forcing a smile.

“Yeah... Thanks Molly.”

“It’s no problem?”

John grinned, quickly hurrying back to the kitchen, hissing Sherlock’s name. Huffing, Sherlock dragged himself through to the kitchen. Listening carefully, Molly could just make out what they were whispering to each other.

“Are you seriously trying to set her up with Doctor Johnson?”

“They’re compatible.”

“Sherlock, no! Let her make her own decisions.”

“Felix is not right for her.”

“She has to figure it out by herself.”

“I’m just trying to spare her the pain. You tell me to be more human and then you tell me off for doing so.”

“Meddling in her personal life isn’t nice!”

Sherlock huffed. “Does she not deserve happiness?”

“Of course, but-”

“Felix is going to break her heart, mark my words.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I know what it feels like!”

John sighed in defeat. “Just... let her do things on her own terms.”

Sherlock marched back into the living room, taking his place in his armchair, Gladstone still in his arms. He smiled at Molly, as if trying to pretend they’d just been talking about what to put on their shopping list instead of her love life. Molly forced a smile in return and sipped at her tea.

***  *  *  ***

Molly was at work two days later when Felix finally texted her; she couldn’t help but grin as she snapped off her latex gloves and grabbed her phone.

_**“Molly, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond but duty called. I have tomorrow off if you’d like to resume our Criminal Minds marathon?”** _

_**“I’d love to, but won’t James be there?”** _

_**“He promised to vacate the flat and find a hobby that wasn’t me or getting injured.”** _

_**“No interruptions?”** _

_**“None whatsoever.”** _

_**“Well, I look forward to it.”** _

Still grinning, Molly slipped her phone back into her pocket and grabbed another pair of gloves, getting back to her work, riding the high of her good mood all the way home. Upon arriving home, she turned on some music as loud as she could without receiving complaints from her neighbours and danced around the flat, running herself a bath and pouring a large glass of wine. Pampering herself was definitely the objective.

The next morning Molly was still in a good mood. She hopped out of bed instead of reluctantly dragging herself from the comfort of her duvet like usual, strolling into the kitchen to fix herself and Toby some breakfast. She had a few hours to kill until she was to go to Felix’s, deciding to do some tidying, taking advantage of her proactiveness. She had a good feeling about the day ahead, it definitely felt like it was going to be ‘the day’. She’d dreamt about Felix; the two of them were in a flowery field on a sunny day having a picnic; she decided it was a good omen. James would be gone, she’d have Felix to herself, and hopefully no emergencies to mess things up.

She thought up a game plan on her walk to Felix’s flat. She planned to sit in the middle of the sofa, not giving Felix the option to sit away from her. She’d pay a lot of attention to Oscar, hoping Felix would play with the cat too and they could get closer. She thought up excuses to curl up to Felix, to rest her head on his shoulder or on his lap. She wasn’t going to let anything hold her back, Felix was going to be hers. It didn’t matter what Sherlock thought; he didn’t know Felix, and he certainly didn’t know her. He didn’t know how she took her coffee, there was no way he could assume to know what kind of man was right for her. She’d told herself it was his arrogance, that he didn’t like her not fancying him. He just wanted it all.

Felix was nice. Felix treated her properly.

She quickly checked her hair and make-up in her pocket mirror, making sure she looked perfect, flattening down her clothes so she didn’t look rumpled or frumpy and confidently rapped on the door. She took a step back, grin still on her face as the door was unlocked and pulled open. She opened her mouth to say hello but stopped in her tracks when she noticed the man at the door wasn’t Felix. He was nothing like Felix; tall and muscular with a tan that suggested he’d been abroad recently. His icy blue eyes bore into her as he smirked, leaning against the door like a stripper would a pole.

“Molly, I presume? Nice to meet you, finally,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Molly took a few moments to compose herself, taking in the man’s appearance.

“Uh... James?”

“The one and only,” he grinned. He pulled the door open fully and stepped to the side, motioning back into the flat. “Do please come in, Felix is expecting you.”

She nodded, shrinking in on herself as she hurried into the flat, managing to get a good blast of his aftershave, suddenly realising it was Felix’s; realising again that it wasn’t Felix’s, it was James’. Felix wore _James’_ aftershave.

“She’s here!” James called, following behind Molly. Felix ducked out of the kitchen, grinning at her.

“Molly! You’re early! I think... James was definitely supposed to be gone by the time you arrived...”

James chuckled, slipped past Molly to stand by Felix. “I think we lost track of time... I assume you want me out so you two can watch your girly TV shows?”

Felix grinned. “They’re not girly.”

“They are, they’re blatantly aimed at women, with their obviously good looking men whose shirts are always conveniently not on their chests?”

“Whatever you say, James. Are you leaving?”

James huffed playfully, grabbing a leather jacket off the back of the sofa, quickly slipping it on, taking a step into Felix’s personal space. “Fine, I’m going. Off to the pub to watch the match.”

“Don’t drink too much, you’re still healing.”

“I thought we’d decided last night I’d healed fine.”

“James-”

“Fine.”

Molly watched in horror as James suddenly cupped Felix’s cheek and mashed their lips together, angling their faces so Molly got the perfect view. Felix let out a happy moan, his fingers curling in the lapels of James’ jacket, holding their bodies close. They finally pulled apart with one final chaste kiss before James bid them both goodbye, smirking arrogantly at Molly as he made his way out.

Molly had no idea what to do. She could see Felix in the corner of her eye, blushing and trying to straighten himself out. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as the realisation dawned on her; why James was so clingy and obsessive, why he was at Felix’s _all the time_. Why Felix’s flat had so many of James’ things there, and why Felix wasn’t picking up on any of her hints.

James’ display would forever be etched into her memory. That had been no goodbye kiss, it was a plain and simple display of possession. Felix was his, and he wanted Molly to back off. All of his interruptions had been his attempts to keep Felix from her.

“Sorry about that. I wish I could say he’s not usually quite so... domineering, but... Are you okay?”

Molly nodded, eyes still wide but not focused on Felix. Felix frowned, moving into her field of vision.

“Molly? James didn’t say anything-”

“I’ve got to go.”

“What?! Molly-”

“I’ve got to... y’know... uh... Bye.”

She rushed out of Felix’s flat and out of the building, determined to not let him see her cry. She heard him call after her, but he didn’t chase her. She just wanted to get out; she didn’t want to go home in case Felix did decide to follow. After a while of walking and willing away her tears she found herself on Baker Street, for once not caring about how much of an arse Sherlock would be. He’d been right -- of course he’d been right; he’d tried to warn her.

Sighing, Molly rang the bell, hoping someone would be in. It was a few moments before she heard anything behind the door, Sherlock appearing before her. He frowned looking her over.

“Molly?”

Molly did her best to choke back a sob, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked down at her feet. “Felix... your brother...”

Sherlock huffed, stepping forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her inside. “Come on, John’s better at dealing with this than I...”

She let Sherlock take her coat and hang it up on the bannister as she shuffled up the stairs. Sherlock was right behind her, ushering her into the living room, ordering John to put the kettle on.

“Please deal with her, John,” Sherlock sighed, waving in Molly’s direction. “I’ll just make things worse.”

John nodded, sitting beside Molly on the sofa. Sherlock meekly picked up Gladstone and placed him on her lap before scurrying away into the kitchen. Molly choked out a meek laugh, scrubbing her fingers through Gladstone’s short fur.

“Well... Felix is gay.”

John frowned, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Oh... yeah...”

Molly sighed, focusing her attention on the puppy. “You knew?”

“Well, yeah... You didn’t?”

“No. He never said.”

“I didn’t think he needed to. He’s quite... effeminate.”

Molly shrugged. “That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gay.”

“Well, what happened? What got you all upset?”

“I met his boyfriend today.”

“Oh.”

She let out a long breath, blinking away her tears. “I thought he was... great boyfriend material, you know? And we got on so well, and went on a couple of dates, and then...”

“Are you sure they were dates?”

“Not anymore.”

Sherlock quickly wandered back into the living room, holding out a cup of tea. “Two sugars, yes?”

Molly smiled, taking it. “You... remembered?”

“Yes.”

He quirked a small smile and rushed off again. John gave Molly’s shoulder a quick squeeze, sinking back against the pillows.

“I’m sorry to hear about... all of this,” he said, his hands fiddling together on his lap. “I should have believed Sherlock when he said it’d end in disaster.”

“So should I. He warned me many times. I just thought he was being cruel or something... But...”

“Sherlock shows he cares in the strangest of ways. You’ll get over him, Molly, this was all very whirlwind.”

Molly shrugged, blowing across the top of her tea. “I just feel so pathetic right now. I had all my hopes pinned to him. He was so nice, and we had things in common, and he’s so very handsome... it should have twigged he’s gay. He’s so perfect, of course he had to be gay.”

John chuckled, letting Gladstone crawl across to his lap. “So... I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but, what’s his boyfriend like?”

Molly huffed, flopping back against the back of the sofa. “He’s like a male model or something. Tanned, muscular, tall... the kind of guy you see modelling underwear on billboards, but... older.”

“Older?”

“He’s about... I don’t know, forty? Ish?”

“Seriously?”

Molly shrugged. She tried to distract herself with Gladstone, pushing her sadness to the back of her mind, giggling when he got too excited and rolled off John’s knee. After determining Molly had cheered up enough, Sherlock decided to join then, sitting in the middle of the floor with his pet.

A while later, there was a loud knocking on the front door. John looked to Sherlock who groaned and pulled himself to his feet, muttering about not being a butler. Molly and John tried to listen to who was at their door; all they could hear was Sherlock hissing something at whoever it was and the door slamming shut, followed by three pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs. Molly’s face fell when she saw Felix and James. James looked as smug as he had when she’d seen him earlier. Felix motioned for him to go and wait in the kitchen, Sherlock ushering John with him, leaving Felix and Molly by themselves.

Sighing, Felix perched himself on the edge of the coffee table and ran a hand through his hair. Molly looked everywhere but not at Felix.

“Molly... Um... I’m sorry if you think I’d been leading you on or... something similar. I didn’t know you viewed me that way... I mean, James told me you did, but I assumed he was just being an arse, like usual... And I’m sorry you found out how you did. You weren’t really supposed to find out at all. James and I aren’t strictly... allowed... We’re breaking so many rules, but... I don’t know.

“I know I didn’t tell you, but I honestly thought it was obvious. I’m really not the straightest guy in the world, most people cotton on straight away... and I’m sure I gave enough hints.”

Molly sighed, finally resolving to look up at Felix, not expecting him to look as sad as he did. “You probably did, but I was too blind.”

“Please don’t blame yourself... But I do wish you’d realised. You were in my home, Molly, how’d you not guess that James and I were more than just co-workers?”

“I don’t know... I thought you were just... really close. You said he slept on your sofa.”

Felix drew out a long breath. “That was aimed at him. He was reading my texts.”

“Oh.”

“I really thought we had a good thing going. I very rarely make friends, I’m not afforded the luxury, and you were such a good friend. We had so much in common, we had a good time together -- even with James being crazy and possessive.”

“I really wondered why you weren’t... responding to my hints. I invited you up for coffee, and you said yes!”

“I thought you were asking as a friend. I didn’t realise you thought there was something between us other than friendship... Do you think we could put this behind us? I really don’t want to lose you.”

Molly frowned, looking back down at her feet. “I don’t know.”

“Please, Molly...”

“Maybe in time... I just... need to heal right now.”

Felix nodded, pulling himself to his feet. “I understand... Will you meet James? He’s really not so bad once he’s asserted his dominance.”

“Okay.”

Felix called the others back into the living room, going to stand beside his lover. Molly reluctantly pulled herself to her feet, John standing by her, letting her rest some of her weight against. Sherlock stood by himself, arms folded defiantly over his chest. Felix cleared his throat awkwardly, looking nervously at everyone facing him. James looked extremely confident, his arm finding it’s place around Felix’s waist.

“Well, seeing as Molly found out accidentally, I figured it was about time I introduced James to you too,” Felix said, looking at Sherlock in particular. Sherlock nodded, eyes narrowing at James.

“Mycroft has already met him?”

“Yes.”

“Field agent? Ex army?”

James’ smirk grew. “Navy.”

Sherlock waved it off dismissively, looking back to Felix. “How long?”

“Just... over a year? Maybe?”

“Very well.”

Felix nodded, looking over to John and Molly. Molly shrugged, looking at her feet again.

“Okay, well... I suppose we’ll be off then,” Felix said, motioning for James to walk ahead. Molly sat back down on the sofa, John going to walk James to the front door. Sherlock quickly grabbed Felix’s arm, leaning close and muttering something. Felix nodded and went to leave too, pausing at the doorway. “Please don’t blame yourself, Molly. And I would like to be your friend, if we could move past this... thing.”

“She’ll think about it,” Sherlock replied. Felix nodded, giving Molly and meek smile before slinking down the stairs. Molly and Sherlock remained silent, listening to John bid James and Felix goodbye. Sherlock reached down and scooped Gladstone into his arms, gingerly sitting himself down next to Molly. Molly managed a smile, reaching over to rub the top of Gladstone’s head.

***  *  *  ***

Molly was sprawled across her sofa, Toby asleep on her stomach, watching TV when there was a knock at the door. She contemplated answering, but favoured not moving from her spot pretending she didn’t exist. When there was no noise for a few moments, she thought they’d gone away, until she heard scuffling just outside and her front door swung open. Sherlock marched in, Gladstone following just behind on his leash.

“Get up, Molly Hooper, it’s Tuesday. You promised to take Gladstone to the vets.”

Molly sighed, too apathetic to care Sherlock had just broken into her flat. “Sherlock-”

“You need a shower. And wear your blue dress. Lipstick, definitely, men prefer fuller lips, don’t they?”

“Sherlock, as much as I appreciate it, I don’t want you to set me up with your vet.”

“Nonsense. A few days is more than enough time to get over my brother. Anyway, you’ll like Doctor Johnson.”

Molly rolled her eyes as Sherlock shifted Toby from her stomach and grabbed her arm, dragging her over to her bathroom. He shoved her inside, muttering things to himself. He refused to leave until Molly was dressed to his liking, and quickly rattled off everything she needed to know, leaving whatever documents she needed before dashing out, his coat swishing behind him.

Molly got to the vets for the specified time, Gladstone sat by her feet in the waiting room. She looked around at the other pet owners, realising she looked severely overdressed for a trip to the vets. One of the doors opened, a balding, overweight man stepping out. Molly’s breath caught in her throat as he scanned his clipboard, terrified Sherlock had set her up.

“Wilson, Diane?”

Her breath flew from her lungs, looking across at the woman dragging a whimpering daschund into the room. She smiled down at Gladstone, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears.

“Holmes, Sherlock?”

Her head shot up, definitely not expecting the man looking around the room for his patient. He looked to be about Sherlock’s height, with the same blue eyes, but with a happy smile on his face. His hair was mussed curls, similar to Sherlock’s, but lighter and shorter. Molly didn’t usually like facial hair on men, but the smattering of stubble definitely made him more attractive; more distinguished. She nervously cleared her throat and got to her feet.

“Hi.”

Doctor Johnson eyed her suspiciously. “Mr Holmes?”

Molly laughed nervously, tugging Gladstone to walk close. “Oh no, I’m a friend, he’s busy and asked if I could bring Gladstone for his check-up.”

The doctor’s grin was back; he tucked his clipboard under his arm and offered his hand. “Wonderful to meet you, Mrs?”

“Oh, Molly. _Miss_ Molly Hooper.”

“Well, _Miss_ Molly Hooper, I'm Doctor Simon Johnson -- do call me Simon -- shall we see if Gladstone’s a healthy, happy pup?”


End file.
